


My Loyalty to You

by Hazein, Shi_Toyu



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Biblical Times, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Art, BAMF Steve Rogers, BAMF Tony Stark, Developing Relationship, Digital Art, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Forbidden Love, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Gift Giving, Historically Accurate, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Idiots in Love, Jewish Steve Rogers, Jewish Tony Stark, Love Confessions, M/M, Prince Tony Stark, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Reckless Steve Rogers, Sassy Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers is Gonna Give Tony a Heart Attack, Steve Rogers is a reckless idiot, Story of David, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Loves Cheese, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torahly Accurate, Worried Tony Stark, biblically accurate, עברית | Hebrew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-08 12:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazein/pseuds/Hazein, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/pseuds/Shi_Toyu
Summary: The Israelite nation has gone to war, Howard is acting erratic, and it’s everything Tony can do to argue with the war council to find the most advantageous strategies for their men. Then Thanos strides out of the enemy ranks and issues a challenge unlike any Tony has ever heard. If an Israelite can defeat him in one-on-one combat, their entire army will surrender. Too bad Thanos is twice the size of any man they have. Enter Steve Rogers, local sheppard and the king’s newest harp player, who claims he can fell this giant with nothing but a sling and a stone.Whether he can manage it or not, Tony is just trying to figure out how you get to looking like that by tending sheep...Story by Shi_ToyuArt by Hazein***Strongly based on the Story of David, but not as religious as you might expect? There is some religious language, mostly from Steve, but it is not a religious commentary. (Unless it's to say how ridiculously gay the Bible is)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special shoutout and thank you to [ Aprilmallick ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aprilmallick/pseuds/Aprilmallick) who helped me with the Hebrew in this fic as well as checked it over for accuracy to the Torah, since I was only coming into this from a Christian perspective and wanted to make sure it was a good reflection of both. I'd also like to thank [ Skye_wyr ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skye_wyr) and [ Amethystina ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethystina) for being my betas. I couldn't have done it without you guys!
> 
> Also, please note that none of this contradicts the events of the Story of David, and I'm _including_ The Gay in that. Honestly. It's ridiculous.

Anthony could still remember the first time he laid eyes on Steven, even years later. His father, King Howard, had gone off to war with the Philistines, Anthony at his side. Steven was already in Howard’s service by then, playing the harp for Howard when he got into one of his _moods_ , but Anthony hadn’t had the occasion to meet him yet. As the crown prince, he wasn’t in the palace often, too busy conducting business around the kingdom in his father’s name.

Steven had been bidden leave from Howard’s service when the threat of attack came so that he might care for his father’s sheep while his brothers fought. As the youngest in the family, it was his duty, however much he might have wished to stay. Still, he made trips to the front lines to deliver food and other supplies from home to his brothers. It was on one of these trips that Anthony met him.

Anthony had just left a meeting of the war council. The Philistine forces were approaching from Socoh, in Judah, set to arrive in less than a week, and they were numerous. Even with Yahweh on their side, it would be a hard-won fight and many men would fall, Anthony was sure of it. The council had decided that the Valley of Elah, where they were camped, would be a fitting location for the forces to meet and had begun to draw up the battle lines in preparation. Howard and Anthony had argued, but there was nothing unusual about that. Anthony had watched as the months passed and his father became more and more agitated and volatile. Sometimes, it was as if a dark spirit resided within him, taking control and making him lash out at any and everyone who was unfortunate enough to be around him. Steven’s music was one of the only things that could calm him.

These worries circled in Anthony’s mind as he made his way through the camp, determined to find distraction. Perhaps there was work to be found in the armory; something he could do to ensure their men were as best equipped as possible. The men were responsible for their own armor and weapons, of course, but not all of them could afford quality pieces. If there were any that required servicing, or that Anthony might be able to fix easily enough, it was the least he could do for those willing t-He collided with something solid as he turned a corner, only saved from falling into the dirt by two hands grasping him around the biceps to steady him. He could feel the warmth of them even through the sleeves of his kethōneth and me’īl.

“I’m so sorry!” the man he’d run into apologized immediately. “I wasn’t watching were I was going.”

Anthony looked up, up, up into bright blue eyes set in a handsome face, blond hair held back by a braided band of light blue fabric. It was a bit uncommon to see the combination of blond hair and blue eyes, but not nearly so uncommon as the sheer beauty of the man before him. Anthony’s mouth went dry and he had to clear his throat as he waved off the apology of the handsome stranger.

“Neither was I,” he confessed. “Don’t worry yourself.”

The man smiled down at him for a long moment that stretched just a beat too long before seeming to realize that he was still holding onto Anthony’s arms and quickly releasing him. He coughed awkwardly as a red flush stole across his cheeks, visible even through his darker-blond beard. The distance between them gave Anthony a chance to look the man over. Unlike Anthony himself, he was dressed humbly in a rough-wool kethōneth shift that only fell to his knees, sleeveless to leave his muscular arms on display, and a similarly low-quality simlāh robe. A rough leather belt was wrapped around his waist. His sandals were of leather, too, and so caked in dirt that they nearly blended in with his skin. Odd. Their camp had been set for several days already. None of the troops should have been walking enough to amass so much dirt.

“If I might impose,” the man spoke again, drawing Anthony’s gaze back up to his face, “I am in sore need of direction. I just arrived from my father’s house with food for my brothers, but I haven’t been able to locate them among the ranks.”

For the first time, Anthony noted the pack that lay on the ground just behind the man, likely dropped when he’d reached out to keep Anthony from falling.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do, considering you kept me from getting dirt on my me’īl,” he agreed readily. It was a beautiful robe of woven silk that marked him for his high station, and he loved it dearly. He would have been devastated if it’d gotten ruined. “What is your family’s name? I’ll make sure you get to your brothers.”

Now it was the man’s turn to rake his eyes over Anthony, and he felt his body heat in response. The fine linen sleeves of his sādhīn were visible under an ankle-length kethōneth and his wooden sandals peaked out beneath them. The chestnut curls of his hair lay mostly hidden by a turban, only a few errant strands slipping free. His sword rested in a gilded sheath alongside his dagger on a leather belt that was of far finer make than the one the man wore. There was nothing about his appearance that looked anything but high-class. Still, the man gave no reaction to the obvious signs of his status and wealth.

“My brothers and I are the sons of Roger of Bethlehem,” he said, before boldly continuing. “I’m Steven.”

Anthony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, not only at the disregard for proper etiquette involving introductions, but at the information that was revealed by him doing so.

“ _You’re_ Steven?” he blurted, incredulously. “The shepherd boy?”

Steven’s smile was crooked and Anthony caught a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

“Well, I’m not much of a _boy_ … but yes. I tend my father’s sheep. Or, I did, and now I am again while this battle is on and my brothers have been called away. You’ve heard of me?”

Not a boy, indeed… Steven might be the youngest among his brothers, but Anthony suspected he was still only a few scant years younger than Anthony himself. The way his father had described his newest servant, Anthony had pictured some skinny little twig of a boy, lying in a field and daydreaming as he watched the clouds, not… _this._

“You recently came into my father’s service playing your harp. I am King Howard’s son, Anthony.”

He wasn’t sure quite what he expected. Most people of Steven’s station were prone to throwing themselves into the dirt at Anthony’s feet when they found out who he was, but Steven had already shown little to no reaction to his obvious wealth. What he hadn’t expected was for Steven’s grin to become even wider as his eyes flitted over Anthony’s form once again.

“Your father is a great man,” he praised, “and he speaks of you fondly.”

It was kind of him to say, but Anthony doubted that was true. He and his father had been close, once, but they clashed more and more often as of late, particularly with Howard’s increasing moodiness.

“Well, we’d best get to tracking down your brothers,” he said, changing the subject rather than addressing what Steven had said. “Shall we?”

Steven bent to pick up his pack again and hoist it onto his shoulder, allowing Anthony a moment to appreciate the play of his muscles as he did so. _Shepherd boy_ , indeed.

.

If Anthony had been surprised by Steven’s appearance, it was nothing compared to his surprise at what he discovered in conversation with the man on their way to find his brothers. Despite his low-standing in society and lack of education, Steven was incredibly well-spoken and dedicated to the Lord. He was a brave man who lamented that he was not able to join the other men in battle instead of rejoicing that he was allowed to stay home in relative comfort.

“What right do I have to do any less than them?” he asked Anthony without even a hint of irony in his voice. “Less than you?”

The smile that stole across Anthony’s face was soft.

“That’s why you bring food to your brothers” Anthony guessed.

“It gives me a way to contribute,” Steven agreed. “And it’s also a good way for me to keep abreast of the latest news. I like knowing what’s going on.”

Anthony nodded easily.

“I can understand that. The Philistines will be here tomorrow afternoon at the latest and then it’s only a matter of time before the fighting begins. Once it starts, there’s no telling which way things will go.”

“Except that we will win,” Steven said with a grin. “Yahweh is with the people of Israel and with King Howard. He will deliver our enemies into our hands.”

Anthony bit back the confession that he was not so sure Yahweh was still with his father. He didn’t know Steven that well, could not be assured that he wouldn’t run off and tell Howard of Anthony’s words or, worse, the people. Something about Steven’s openness and genuine nature as he spoke made Anthony feel comfortable with him, but that wasn’t enough to break through his entire upbringing of conscientious distrust. Still, he could see Steven becoming a trusted advisor if they had more time. No wonder Howard had become so immediately fond of him.

“Yes,” he said instead. “Yahweh is with us.”

He wished he could be so confident. The priests taught them that none should worry and to trust in the Lord, but that was far easier said than done. Anthony _wanted_ to give his trust and concerns over, but it was a difficult thing for him to let go of. He was far more comfortable when he was able to be active and work toward a solution himself. Luckily, he didn’t have to scramble for any further conversation as he spotted the tent they’d been looking for up ahead. A large man in a black turban, rolled up so that none of the cloth hung down, even in the back, tended the fire out front.

“There.” Anthony pointed it out to Steven. “That is your family’s tent, I believe.”

He could tell the moment Steven’s gaze found it, because his entire face lit up with a grin so bright it left Anthony momentarily stunned. Steven picked up speed and raised one hand in an exuberant wave at the same time as he called out to the man at the fire, “Dum Dum!”

The man’s head snapped up, revealing a face burnished red by the sun behind a thick beard. He looked, Anthony reflected, very little like Steven for someone who was supposed to be his brother. He was probably from one of Roger’s other wives. Where Steven’s face and jaw were chiseled with his handsomeness, his brother’s had the same broadness as every other inch of his frame. His surprise quickly changed to a broad grin when he spotted the two of them coming forward.

“Steven,” he cried, stepping away from the fire and into a tight hug, pulling Steven in close and squeezing, “you made it!”

“I almost didn’t,” Steven confided with good humor. “Navigating the roads were easier than finding my way around this encampment! If it weren’t for Anthony, I might have ended up back in the desert.”

This, of course, drew Dum Dum’s attention to Anthony. Unlike Steven, _his_ eyes went so wide upon spotting Anthony that he was afraid they might pop out. He sputtered out something unintelligible, probably an apology of some sort, already starting to sink onto his knees, but Anthony waved that nonsense off.

“There’s no need for that, I assure you,” he bade the man. He gave him a smile as Dum Dum, and he really did hope that was a nickname, cautiously rose. “I’m only here as a guide, so there’s no need to stand on ceremony.”

Dum Dum still didn’t look convinced, but he gave a tentative nod.

“Thank you, Anthony Hanassich, for ensuring our brother got to us safely. May Yahweh’s blessings be upon you.”

Anthony grimaced at the use of his official title but nodded in gracious acceptance anyway. It would be rude to do anything less.

“It was no trouble. Besides, I quite enjoyed finding the chance to finally meet the man whose harp has so captured my father’s admiration.”

Steven’s answering smile was bashful.

“Once the battle here is over and you have returned to the palace, you will have to come listen to me play.”

Something in Anthony’s chest warmed pleasantly.

“I will make certain to.”

Steven dipped his head in farewell and turned as if to enter the tent, only to turn back again.

“Will you be in the area in another hour or so? I should be finished up by then and I’d hate to get lost trying to find my way back out of here.”

Anthony’s lips tugged upward at the corners. It didn’t escape his notice that Steven’s brothers were surely quite capable of guiding him back out of the camp.

“I can be.”

By all that was holy, Steven’s smiles were something else.

“Then I hope you will.”

.

Steven’s journey back out of the camp took longer than it had any right to. Admittedly, though, that likely had something to do with Anthony insisting on feeding him before he got back on the road and it was only proper to host a guest in his own tent. They spoke of many things as they ate finely roasted meat with bread. Even once they had finished eating, they remained lounging across the many rugs and cushions that decorated Anthony’s tent.

Talking to Steven was easy, even effortless. He bore no hidden agenda nor abject ambitions so far as Anthony could tell. Well, except for being able to serve in the coming battle, of course. It was refreshing to speak with someone who had no regard for Anthony’s station and such a unique perspective on the issues faced by their people. A commoner saw things no royal would ever witness, simply by virtue that no one was putting on a show for their eyes.

Steven laughed with him as though they were friends, railed again injustices as though they were age-old comrades. He showed a familiarity with him that, slowly but surely, was working to crumble the walls Anthony had spent nearly his entire life building up. It would have been quite worrisome, in all honesty, except that Anthony felt quite sure Steven wasn’t the type for subterfuge or even subtlety. He was far too straightforward and blunt for that. It was so wildly different from most of those who Anthony was used to interacting with that he found himself, time and again, just smiling at Steven as he told tale after tale of his life.

“But enough about me,” Steven finally said. “I feel like I’ve done nothing but talk about myself and that’s terribly rude. Tell me about you.”

Anthony pursed his lips, considering. If he were talking to a foreign dignitary or a member of the court, he would know exactly what to say, but he was no as sure-footed talking to Steven.

“What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you would like me to. I haven’t met the queen before, what is she like? What do you do when you’re not in court? Have you gotten to travel much? I’ve always wanted to, but, well…” He gave a chagrined smile. “What’s your favorite place that you’ve visited?”

Yes. Definitely not the things a member of the court would have wanted to know. Except, perhaps, for the question about Anthony’s mother, but that would have been leading, looking for ways to gain her favor.

“Queen Maria is every bit the jewel she’s described to be,” he said with a fond smile. “She is elegant and upright and taught me everything I know about interacting with people in the court. And she is kind.” Or she had been. He did not speak of the careful distance she kept as Anthony grew older. “As for my time outside of my official duties, I greatly enjoy blacksmithing, though my father doesn’t approve. It’s messy work, but I’ll admit I’m entranced by almost any kind of metal work. I like having something to do with my hands.”

“Sababa,” Steven praised, sounding honestly impressed. “That sounds amazing. I bet you’re very good at it.”

“I manage,” he demurred modestly. “And I have gotten to travel quite extensively. I would have to say that Egypt is my favorite.”

“Egypt? Really?”

“Our shared history may be sordid, I’ll grant you, but they have some of the finest craftsmen of any nation. It was there that I acquired my robe.”

He held out one sleeve with a flourish.

“It _is_ a very fine piece,” Steven admitted, “though I am no judge of such things.”

Anthony stroked his fingers over the silk fabric fondly.

“My mother had it commissioned for me, actually,” he confessed, though it was something he normally would not have. It’d been completely out of the blue and one of the only things he had to give him physical proof that she still loved him the way she once had when he was a child. “She saw me admiring some that we saw among the court there and so she found the weaver who had made them and commissioned this. Red is my… favorite color.”

Steven’s eyes softened, as if he understood what was not being said.

“A _very_ fine piece, then.”

Several hours passed as they drifted on to other, less heartfelt topics, and yet it felt like it had been only minutes when Steven announced that he needed to be on his way.

“I don’t have any desire to be traveling these roads after dark. They are far too dangerous for a lone man with no weapon to defend himself.”

“You could always spend the night here,” Anthony offered, not truly expecting Steven to take him up on it. “I would be happy to host you in my tent and you could travel back home refreshed in the morning.”

The slow simmering attraction that had been burning between them only grew hotter with the desire clear in Steven’s eyes.

“If only I could,” he lamented, “but someone must mind the sheep.”

Anthony nodded in understanding as he stood.

“Very well, then at least take this with you.” He removed the dagger from his belt and held it out for Steven to take. “So you are not unarmed in case of bandits.”

Steven gaped at the blade.

“I couldn’t! It is much too fine for a shepherd like me. You have already been more than generous enough.”

Anthony pressed it into his hands anyway, shamelessly allowing his fingers to linger upon the other man’s flesh.

“I insist. You can return it to me on your next trip to see your brothers, provided you bring a weapon of your own to replace it as your protection.”

Finally, Steven’s hands gripped the blade and accepted it.

“Very well,” he said, never letting his gaze stray from Anthony’s. “You have my word that I will return with it soon, so as not to leave you inconvenienced by the loss. You will surely have need of it once the fighting starts.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

.

Only a few days later, Steven was back. Anthony probably shouldn’t have been surprised, but some part of him had seemingly decided that Steven’s appearance and their stimulating conversations had been… perhaps not _made up_ , but certainly embellished by the rosy tint of fond memory. Surely, Steven’s eyes hadn’t been that stunningly blue. Surely, his words hadn’t been so honey-sweet that Anthony was left wanting to lick them right off his lips. Surely, the warmth between them had not burned so strongly.

And yet, here Steven was, looking every bit as handsome as Anthony remembered, smiling with what seemed to be genuine joy as he spotted Anthony down the row of tents and began jogging his way. As he drew to a halt just an arm’s reach away, Anthony couldn’t help but notice how his eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

“Anthony!” Steven greeted warmly and with what seemed to be utter sincerity. “I was hoping to find you again. I missed you.”

Anthony snorted indelicately.

“It’s only been two days.”

Steven’s smile didn’t diminish in the slightest and Anthony could feel his own stretching wider in response.

“And yet I couldn’t rest easy until I made sure to get this back to you.”

He rummaged through his pack for a moment before producing Anthony’s dagger. It gleamed with what was obviously a recent polishing and Anthony found himself oddly touched by the gesture.

“I hope you brought a weapon of your own with you, then, if you’re planning on returning mine,” he teased lightly.

Steven pulled aside a bit of his simlāh robe to show Anthony the leather pouch attached to his belt.

“Of course!”

“Is that,” Anthony hesitated a moment to wrestle with his rising horror, “a _sling_? That is not a weapon, Steven. That’s a toy.”

Steven seemed unfazed by Anthony’s completely legitimate defaming of his chosen defense system, just chuckling in amusement.

“It’s served me well enough so far.”

Anthony just gave him an unimpressed look.

“Fight off a lot of bandits, then, do you?”

“Not really,” Steven demurred modestly, “but there are plenty of lions and bears that come after the sheep.”

Anthony’s jaw dropped.

“Excuse me, _what?_ ”

“Lions and bears. The sheep make easy prey, so I have to run predators off if they start getting too interested. A few smacks across the nose with a small rock is usually enough to deter them, but sometimes they can be rather stubborn and keep coming anyway.”

“And that’s when you run, right?”

Steven just looked confused.

“No? Then there’d be no one to get between them and the sheep. It’d be a bloodbath and they’d just keep coming back whenever they felt like it. Normally, that’s when I have to wrestle them a bit.”

“You wrestle. The bears,” Anthony said slowly, carefully enunciating each word as if it might somehow help them make sense.

“Well, I can’t very well just let them eat the sheep, can I?”

“No, of course not. Prioritizing your own life over those of stock animals would be completely ridiculous.”

Steven chuckled and held out the knife once more.

“The point is, I can handle myself, though I appreciate your concern. You can have this back, now.”

Anthony willed himself to reach out and take it, to, for once, not let his weird, stupid quirk get in the way of things. He just… couldn’t quite manage it.

“I don’t like being handed things,” he said, a little too sharply in his anxiety. Then, in an attempt to soften the words, “but there is a perfectly serviceable trunk back in my tent you could set it down on, if you’d like. Unless you need to get to your brothers quickly, that is.”

This was it, Anthony knew it. This was the moment he went and made things awkward, the moment when Steven’s smile would dim, and his eyes would shutter as he realized that this was all a horrible mistake. Anthony was brilliant and charismatic, yes, but only when he kept people at arm’s length and didn’t let them get too close. He’d even given Steven the perfect excuse to make an escape. It’d be a simple thing for the man to avoid running into him again unless they were thrown into the same event back at the palace and then it would only be a matter of pretending none of this had ever happened.

“I actually already went by,” Steven admitted, causing Anthony to have to scramble for a moment to get his head back into the conversation as opposed to lost in his fears. “I didn’t want to have to cut our conversation any shorter than absolutely necessary.”

Well, that didn’t sound like Steven was planning to cut his losses and make a run for it, at least.

“So, you have time to join me for another meal, then?” Anthony asked hopefully.

“I’d like that.”

.

After Steven left once again, Anthony found himself torn between his attraction to Steven and what he knew to be the reality of the situation. He hardly knew Steven, and this was hardly the time or place for even a carnal dalliance, even _if_ their stations in life didn’t put miles between them. Not that there was anything set in stone just yet. There was only the possibility there, the ‘what if’ of a future not yet determined. Anthony knew his heart, knew how it yearned for intimacy and jumped at the smallest show of kindness and companionship from another.

But that was not his lot in life. Anthony had a role to play in his nation, for his people and his father’s house. He was all too aware that there were those who would take his attraction or even friendship as a chance to advance their own station. It’d happened before and, while he did not have the fear that Steven was among that number, he had grown far too wary to take a chance at revealing himself and his desires, whether physical or emotional. It didn’t matter the handsomeness of Steven’s physique, nor his wit and kindness that made Anthony yearn for something more.

This was not something Anthony could have. This was not something Anthony could even be allowed to _want_.

And yet, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the easy conversations that had flowed between them. Sure, Anthony had originally been attracted to Steven’s body, but his mind and personality had only drawn him in further. Anthony _liked_ Steven. As much as he thought he’d enjoy a simple roll in the hay, he couldn’t help but imagine the possibility of a deeper connection between them and had to quickly school himself away from such thoughts. At this point, he’d rather keep Steven around as a friend than as a one-time lover who disappeared as soon as they were both satiated.

Not that the looks he and Steven had shared seemed to indicate Steven wanted to simply remain friends. Anthony just struggled to take the plunge when he knew the loss that would come later. Oh, he was happy to flirt – that came as naturally to him as breathing – but he wasn’t ready to make any actual moves in the direction of carrying it through. War was hardly a fitting place, anyway. Even if he and Steven _did_ pursue something, which he did his best to keep from considering, it would have to be after all of this with the Philistines was resolved. For now, the enemy threat definitely took priority. He could worry about himself and his fears of eternal loneliness later.

The Philistines had arrived just an hour past Steven’s departure and set up camp on a hill on the opposite end of the Valley of Elah. Anthony stood at the edge of the Israelite camp with his father and stared off into the distance at where they could just barely make out the movement of the opposing army settling in.

“They’re numbers are great, just as our scouts indicated,” he said, hoping to keep the statement neutral enough to avoid his father’s unpredictable temper.

Still, a scowl spread over Howard’s face.

“We have conquered great opposition before. Our people will find victory.”

Anthony bowed his head in supplication.

“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Shall we adjourn to the war tent? I’m sure the rest of the council has gathered by now. Perhaps the prophets will have had some word from Yahweh to guide us.”

He turned in that direction as if to urge his father’s compliance, but Howard didn’t move, eyes fixed in the distance still. His brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in an attempt to see more clearly.

“Someone has left their camp.”

Anthony whirled back around, alarmed.

“They’re attacking?” he exclaimed. “So soon?”

“No. It looks like just a single individual. My horse!” Howard called to his attendant. “Bring me my horse!”

Anthony signaled for the man to bring his as well and they, accompanied by a moderate guard, were soon riding out to confront the solitary figure making its way across the valley toward their camp. As they approached, the figure grew larger and larger. They reigned in their horses just five meters away and the man, for it was a man, also stopped. Standing in the grass in nothing taller than a pair of leather sandals, his head still drew level with Anthony’s own.

This was no man. This was a giant.

He was adorned in all bronze, from his helmet to his greaves. Glistening scale armor covered him like a coat. It had to be staggeringly heavy, and yet he carried it with ease. A javelin was slung casually across his back, its shaft as wide as a weaver’s rod, and a sword hung at his side. Whoever his man was, there was no doubt he was impossibly strong.

“Hail!” Howard called out to him. “Announce yourself and your business for approaching our camp. Do you carry a message from the Philistines?”

The man laughed.

“Why do you come out and line up for battle? I am Thanos of Gath, and I am a Philistine, indeed. However, I abhor unnecessary death and have proposed an alternate solution to my king, rather than an all-out battle where the blood of both sides will surely be spilled across the very ground where we now stand.”

The Philistines wanted to negotiate now? After all that had brought them here? Anthony could scarcely believe it. Perhaps, though, they had not expected that Howard would really be willing to head to war. Or perhaps they had underestimated the force of Israel. He glanced at his father to gauge his reaction, but Howard remained stoic.

“And what is it that you propose, Thanos of Gath?”

“Though I have a distaste for needless death, I have an unquenchable thirst for battle. I have fought with many opponents from all across the lands, and yet none has been able to come close to felling me. Choose a man from among your ranks and have him come down to me. If he is able to fight and kill me, we will become your subjects, O’ King; but if I overcome him and kill him, you will become our subjects and serve us.”

“You lay the fate of your entire nation upon your shoulders? And your king agreed to this?”

“My king knows my skill and ability. This day I defy the ranks of Israel,” the man crowed. “Give me a man and let us fight each other!”

He seemed entirely undaunted by the way Howard scowled at him.

“I will consider your words,” Howard said. “I trust our camps may maintain peace as I do so?”

Thanos swept into a bow that managed to look more mocking than respectful.

“I would allow no one to rob me of the joy of a good fight.”

With a nod of acceptance, Howard turned his horse and began the ride back to their camp. Anthony quickly followed, trusting their guards to watch their backs.

“Surely you cannot be truly considering this,” he said as he drew up beside his father. “The size of him! There are none among our ranks who could stand against him alone. A single blow from his fist would surely split a man’s skull wide open!”

“Enough,” Howard commanded tersely. “I have made no decision yet. If there is a great battle, many of our people will die. He is right about that much. If one of our own could face him, then it could save many lives.”

“And who would face him?” Anthony challenged. “Who could possibly stand a chance?”

His father had no answer.

.

The next morning, Howard announced to the camp that he was offering a great reward to any man who could defeat Thanos, and that he would offer the hand of one of his daughters in marriage on top of that.


	2. Chapter 2

It was over a week before Steven came to the camp again, only to find Anthony in the throes of his distress. Every morning, Thanos had crossed the field between the Israelite and Philistine camps to make his proclamation once more. No man among their forces wished to stand against him, no matter the reward Howard offered. It wasn’t a stalemate which could last forever, though, and Anthony had to find a way to fix it before things came to a head.

“I don’t wish to burden you at such an ill time,” Steven said, but Anthony was already waving the words off.

“I would do well with a bit of a distraction,” he admitted. “I have gone over everything in my head so many times that I can hardly see straight anymore. A bit of respite in your company sounds quite close to paradise, honestly.”

Steven brightened immediately. Reaching into his pack, he pulled forth several carefully-wrapped bundles.

“I brought these for you, in gratitude for the hospitality you have shown me.”

He placed them on a nearby chest instead of making any attempt to hand them over, and Anthony’s chest warmed at the gesture. It was a simple thing, and yet many forgot about his little quirk. Unable to resist the temptation of his curiosity, he knelt beside the chest to begin unwrapping the offerings.

“My hospitality was given without any expectation of repayment, but thank you. You must know you are always welcome in my tent.”

The wrappings fell away to reveal what was easily identified as ten blocks of _very_ finely crafted cheese of several varieties.

“They are from the sheep in my father’s flock,” Steven supplied, no small amount of pride in his voice. “My mother mixes the herbs and spices. You will find none better in all the tribes of Israel.”

Anthony couldn’t help but smile at the clear love and admiration Steven had for his family. Anthony’s family all kept a certain distance from each other, a distance that had only grown over the past months. It was nice to see that not all suffered such a separation from their loved ones.

“Then I hope you will partake in trying some of them with me. I will confess a weakness for cheese. I do not believe I would be able to wait.”

“I should be so honored,” Steven said softly as he knelt beside Anthony.

Their gazes caught and held for a moment, just a scant bit too long to be considered appropriate, before Anthony broke the connection by looking away. He reached for the dagger at his belt, hoping the olive tan of his skin hid the way his cheeks burned. His heart pattered away, betraying his controlled expression as he drew his dagger to begin carving into the blocks. Surely Steven had not been about to bridge the space between them to press their lips together.

Surely.

Allowing the almost-occurrence to pass by without mention, they lounged across Anthony’s carpets and pillows and talked as they ate cheese with bread and dried fruits. Eventually, the conversation turned to the source of Anthony’s concern and stress.

“I cannot think of a man among our forces who would be up to the task of facing Thanos in singular combat,” he confessed, “though I do not know all who are with us. Yet Howard is set against a full assault and the losses it would bring. I have no wish to cause so much loss of life, but I am unsure we could overcome this giant of a man without it.”

“But King Howard is offering a reward to anyone who will face him?”

Anthony nodded.

“Not that it will make any difference if they die in the attempt, and it would place the fate of all of Israel on their shoulders. My father will not go back on his word. If our champion were to lose, we would become the slaves of the Philistines and be no better off than when we were before Moses led our people out of Egypt.”

“It’s a lot of pressure. I can understand why it would make people nervous to step forward, though I think it would be an honor to fight for Israel. What will you do?”

“The Philistines have given us six weeks to find a champion, which is a quite generous offer. If no one steps forward, I will face Thanos myself.”

Steven’s eyebrows rose in alarm.

“You can defeat him, then?”

Anthony watched his face for several long moments. Again, he felt the urge to be completely honest with Steven in a way that would doubtlessly be considered inadvisable.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “but I will not let the tribes of Israel go quietly into the slavery we fought so hard to overcome.”

Steven’s hand covered his own in a blanket of warmth.

“Then let us hope it does not come to that. Perhaps there is one among your father’s forces who will step up to the challenge. As you said, there are many here who are unknown to you.”

“Perhaps,” Anthony allowed, wishing he could share in Steven’s optimism.

.

Though Anthony missed Steven during his absences, he wasn’t given a great deal of time to dwell on it. There was much to be done around the Israelite camp to keep it running smoothly, even without any active fighting going on. Supplies had to be requisitioned and ordered, watches and scouts needed to be organized, and appearances needed to be made in order to keep up morale. The longer the situation stretched, the more anxiety Anthony felt. It was a sentiment shared by many throughout the Israelite ranks as Thanos continued to appear day after day with his proclamation, jeering and taunting them as he did.

Howard grew more and more sullen, his brooding only interrupted by his bouts of aggression and rage. Anthony was called upon many times to attempt to soothe his father, though he wasn’t sure he actually did much to help. Still, it was not a task he felt he could leave to anyone else. His father was irrational once he got into one of his moods and he would take it out on whoever happened to be there. It was better for that to be Anthony than a hapless servant or guard.

Steven’s visits were like an oasis of tranquility in the midst of the madness. While they weren’t frequent, Steven made sure to stop by Anthony’s tent every time he made a trip to bring bread and other supplies to his brothers. Even if it was only an hour spent in conversation, it always left Anthony feeling lighter. Steven continued sending out his little hints, too, the brief touches and heated glances that revealed just how much he desired to further their relationship. It was only a matter of time before Anthony’s self-restraint crumbled. Perhaps when all of this was over… if Anthony was still alive and the Israelites were still free.

.

Forty days after the arrival of the Philistines, nearly a month and a half since the start of the stalemate, things finally came to a head. Anthony was once again in council with his father when one of Howard’s servants came barging into the tent, disregarding any and all social protocol.

“Th-there is a man who says he can defeat Thanos!” the servant gasped out before Howard could even demand to know the reason for the interruption.

All of the anger drained from Howard’s face in an instant.

“Then bring him to me! Quickly!”

Murmurs ran all throughout the tent as the servant ran back out and Anthony moved to sit beside his father. A scowl marred Howard’s face, one that had not always been so stern at is seemed to have grown in recent years.

“What do you think?” Anthony asked his father quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of anyone else.

“I will wait to see who this man is before I pass judgement on his claims,” Howard responded with no small amount of reprimand, before softening just a bit. “But it seems a long time to wait before stepping forward.”

Feeling the sting, Anthony settled back to wait silently. Something about this just didn’t feel right. Just like Howard had said, it seemed like an oddly long time to wait. Anthony had already more or less resigned himself to personally facing off with Thanos, as he’d told Steven during his last visit, and was doing his best to prepare.

He couldn’t keep the shock off his face when the servant returned with Steven in tow. And he wasn’t the only one surprised.

“Steven,” Howard greeted solemnly.

Steven gave the king a bow, sparing the barest of glances for Anthony.

“You called for me?”

Howard considered him for a long moment.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you among my troops, not when I gave you special permission to remain home to tend your father’s sheep. Yet now I hear that you have voiced claims that you can best Thanos in combat.”

To Steven’s credit, he didn’t back down at Howard’s tone. It didn’t even seem to phase him.

“I’ve made several trips to your encampment to bring supplies for my brothers, who are among your troops. As for what you’ve heard, I was merely asking questions and never made any such claims,” there was another flurry of murmuring, and Steven raised his voice to cut through them, “ _however_ , that is not to say I don’t believe I can. Let no one lose heart on account of this Philistine.” His gaze caught Anthony’s and held it. “I will go and fight him.”

Anthony’s heart pounded in his chest, fear gripping him. In his darker moments, when he had thought about what would happen if he fell fighting Thanos, he had taken some small comfort in knowing that Steven would be safe. Even if Howard decided to break his word and attack the Philistines after Anthony’s death, Steven would be tending his father’s sheep and in no danger. He might end up enslaved, yes, but he would be alive, and Yahweh would deliver the Israelite nation in the end. The thought of Steven going up against Thanos, though…

“You have no experience on the field of battle,” Howard scoffed. “Thanos has been fighting men since his youth. You cannot go out and fight him with any hope of being victorious.”

But Steven stood firm.

“As you know, I have spent my entire life before entering your service tending my father’s sheep. When a lion or a bear came and carried off a sheep from the flock, I went after it, struck it and rescued the sheep from its mouth. When it turned on me, I seized it by its hair, struck it and killed it. I have killed both lion and bear; this uncircumcised Philistine will be like one of them, because he has defied the armies of Yahweh. The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine.”

Howard was silent, watching Steven with quiet contemplation, and Anthony wanted nothing more than to throw himself at his father’s feet and beg him not to allow this, to send Steven away and allow Anthony to face Thanos instead.

“Go, and the Lord be with you,” Howard intoned.

Anthony’s heart screamed in denial. He rose to his feet and stepped toward Steven, hoping to talk some sense into him if his father wouldn’t, but Howard was already calling to a servant for his armor and sword to be prepared.

“It is the finest make in all of Israel,” he told Steven seriously. “I will not send you into this combat unprepared. You are aware of the reward I have offered?”

“I have heard of it, yes,” Steven admitted, “though the reward is not why I fight. I fight for Israel, for my loved ones.”

Howard was grinning now as he clapped Steven on the shoulder, looking almost like his old self. Was this the effect Steven always had on him?

“A good man,” he praised. “Should you defeat Thanos, a small fortune shall be gifted to you from the royal family, and you and your father’s family will be exempt from the taxes of the Israelite nation. More than that, though, I will offer you the hand of one of my children in marriage.”

Again, Steven’s eyes flickered toward Anthony. He wished he knew what the other man was thinking. He wished there was something he could do to _stop this_.

“That is very generous,” Steven acknowledged, looking to Howard once more. “I will not let you or our people down.”

Howard nodded decisively.

“Very well, then. Let’s get you properly outfitted. I won’t have you going off to fight in your current state.”

He waved a dismissive hand to indicate Steven’s traveling garb, still covered in dirt and dust from the road. Servants swarmed forward, following Howard’s cues and hustling Steven out of the tent. Anthony hastened to follow, hoping to catch a moment to be able to confront Steven about this insanity. He fell in beside him as the group made their way to Howard’s tent, which was not at all far from Anthony’s own.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as he drew level with Steven, tone a bit more accusatory than he perhaps had intended. “What are you doing?”

Steven grinned at him, that endearing, infuriating smile of his.

“Don’t worry,” he comforted with that seemingly boundless patience of his. “I won’t lose.”

Anthony blustered.

“You haven’t even _seen_ Thanos. He’s huge! And the rulers of the Philistines have enough faith in his fighting skill to place the fate of their nation on his shoulders.”

“I have!” Steven defended. “I saw him this morning when I arrived. Plus, you have told me much about him. I can do this, Anthony.” He reached out to grasp Anthony’s shoulder firmly. “Have faith in _me_.”

Anthony didn’t know how to tell him that his fear of losing Steven outweighed his faith.

In Howard’s tent, the king instructed his servants to take Steven’s clothes and give him garments from Howard’s own wardrobe to replace them. A short cropped sādhīn, falling only to his lower thigh, and a kethōneth of much finer linen that someone of Steven’s station could ever hope to afford were provided in short order. Then came the armor. Bracers, greaves, a fine bronze helmet; Anthony didn’t know where Howard’s servants found them all, but they managed to procure enough armor that fit Steven’s frame to completely outfit him. Finally, Steven strapped a sword, one of Howard’s own, to his side.

“I’ve never worn armor before,” he confessed with a bit of a chuckle, as if they were only playing dress-up instead of preparing him to face a deathmatch with a giant. “It is much heavier than I imagined.”

He took several steps, bending this way and that to test the range of his movement. Anthony could see the discomfort in how Steven bore himself. Halfway through his circuit of the tent, he nearly tripped over his own feet and had to grab a trunk to keep himself from falling on his face. Frowning, Steven turned to address Howard.

“My apologies, my King, but I must turn down your gracious offer to equip me. I cannot go in these, for I am not used to them. I must meet Thanos as myself.”

Howard scowled.

“You wish to face him unarmored? With only a sword? That’s suicide.”

Again, Steven seemed more amused than concerned as he began pulling off the armor pieces, the servants quickly coming forward to assist him.

“Without the sword as well, I’m afraid. I have only the barest idea how to use one. I’d probably end up stabbing myself before I managed to land a hit on our foe.”

Anthony couldn’t hold back the inarticulate noise of alarm that escaped him.

“Then how exactly are you planning to win this fight?” he exclaimed. “Do you mean to go to your death like a lamb to the slaughter?”

“I will face Thanos as I would a loathsome bandit upon the road, or a beast assaulting my father’s flock.” Steven reached over to where his belongings had been piled, rifling around them for a moment before producing the sling and leather pouch that had hung at his belt ever since he returned Anthony’s dagger. “Do you think I have time to visit the stream? I’d like to pick up some stones, if I can. I think I shall need one of just the right size.”

.

Steven was insane.

Anthony wasn’t sure how he hadn’t seen it before, but the proof in front of him now couldn’t be denied. Steven was absolutely, without a doubt, out of his mind. His smile and good cheer never wavered as he made sure to thank each and every one of Howard’s servants for their assistance. He chatted amicably with Howard as they stopped by the stream for him to pick out a handful of smooth stones and then as a horse was acquired for him. As they were preparing to mount their steeds and ride out, Anthony snagged the sleeve of Steven’s new kethōneth.

“Please,” he begged, though he couldn’t articulate just what he was begging for.

He knew there was no chance of talking Steven out of this.

Steven gazed at him for a long moment before cupping the back of Anthony’s neck with one warm hand and pulling him closer to press their foreheads together.

“I will come back,” Steven murmured softly, seriously. “You can bet your beloved robe on it.”

Despite himself, Anthony found himself snorting in laughter.

“It’s a deal,” he agreed. “Come back to me in one piece and my robe is yours.”

Steven reared back in surprise.

“Anthony-“

“No, a deal’s a deal. It’s too late to back out now.”

Blue eyes softened, even as they grew warm with a heat that promised _many_ things.

“Only if you allow me to be the one who takes it off you.”

Anthony’s heart jumped in his chest.

“Very well,” he agreed. “You have my word.”

“And you, mine.”

They broke apart, then, barely able to tear themselves away but knowing there were things that needed to be done. They mounted their horses without comment and rode out with Howard and the guards.

 _Please_ , Anthony sent up a silent prayer as they set out across the valley. _Please don’t take him from me._

.

Thanos, along with his own shield bearer and observers, including the rulers of the Philistine nation,s came out to meet them. Thanos strode out on foot, keeping pace easily with those on horseback, and sneered as he caught sight of the Israelites.

“Well, then, have you chosen a man to fall upon my sword at last? Someone to be sacrificed on the altar to Dagon’s superiority?”

Anthony nearly jumped forward to claim the right for himself, but Steven beat him to it. He swung down from his horse and stood tall before Thanos, though he could not hope to compare in terms of stature.

“I will fight you.”

Thanos stared down at him for a moment before giving a great bark of laughter.

“You? You are more a boy than a man,” he mocked. “I’m surprised you managed to grow any of that beard of yours at all! And to come here unarmored? No sword! No spear! Am I a dog, that you come at me with sticks? Come here, then, if you desire your death so greatly. I’ll give your flesh to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field and Dagon will grind your bones to dust!”

Steven’s smile was nowhere to be found.

“You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of Yahweh, the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you defied. This day, Yahweh will hand you over to me, though I carry no sword and wear no armor. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give all of you Philistines into our hands.”

Anger twisted Thanos’s face and he spat at Steven’s feet.

“Very well, then. When I have cleaved your head from your shoulders, we will see how great your Yahweh is.”

The leather of the horse’s reins bit painfully into Anthony’s palms with the tightness of his grip as he and the others drew back. He felt almost as though it were a physical struggle to guide his mount away from the two combatants. He wanted nothing more than to jump down and join Steven’s side, but doing such would be an act of war and spell a fate for the Israelite nation far worse than death. Anthony could not be responsible for that.

All he could do was watch. And pray.

Thanos and Steven circled one another, observing each other’s movements. Thanos darted forward a few times before drawing back again, getting a feel for the way Steven reacted. It was a classic technique, used both to get a read on your opponent and to lull them into a false sense of security. It worked especially well against fighters who put more of an emphasis on their defense, which seemed to be the case with Steven.

On about the sixth rotation, Thanos sprang forward. He moved with a speed that belied his size, a speed he’d obviously been holding back on with his earlier feints. He crossed the space between them in an instant and Anthony’s breath caught in his throat as Thanos’s sword cleaved through the air, barely more than a blur.

Steven threw himself to the side, rolling in the grass and springing back to his feet. He clasped his sling in one hand and had the other on his pouch of stones where it was tied to his belt. Thanos didn’t give him any time to recover, though, turning and charging at him once more with a great cry. Again, Steven dodged.

They continued their dance of bobbing and weaving. Steven needed space between them in order to use his sling, but couldn’t get it with Thanos’s relentless charge. With Thanos’s experience and skill in battle, he was probably trying to tire Steven out. All he needed was a single slip-up and his sword would find flesh. It wasn’t a comforting thought.

Anthony was still struggling to keep the mental image out of his mind when Steven did something completely unexpected.

Instead of dodging backwards or to the side as he had been, Steven pushed further into Thanos’s space on the next swing. For a heart-stopping moment, it looked as if the fight was over, as if Thanos was going to bring the pommel of his sword down on Steven’s skull to cave it in, but then Steven just… _disappeared_. He reappeared a moment later behind Thanos, having tucked and rolled between his legs in a move that would never have worked against a smaller man.

Anthony could see the grin once more lighting up Steven’s face as he sprinted as far away as he could in the time it took Thanos to turn.

His sling hung low from his hand, already heavy with a stone.

One rotation, two, and Steven let it fly.

Anthony barely managed to track the stone as it sailed through it air, but it was impossible to miss the crunching sound as it impacted with Thanos’s forehead. For a long moment, all was quiet.

Thanos stumbled.

His sword dropped from limp fingers and he fell to one knee. Blood dripped down his face and, even at such a distance, Anthony could make out the struggled heaving of his chest.

Thanos fell.

Steven had done it. He’d _won_.

Anthony would have been concerned about his own enthusiasm giving away the nature of his and Steven’s attachment, but Howard seemed no less pleased by the outcome. He grinned as he approached the king of the Philistines, clearly set on claiming his agreed-upon prize now that their champion was defeated. It left Anthony free to go to Steven’s side.

He swung off his horse and hit the ground running. Even if he hadn’t seen any blows land, he would not rest easy until he was able to check Steven over for injuries himself. Steven grinned as Anthony drew close, wrapping his arms around Anthony’s waist and lifting him into the air with a laugh, none of which was at _all_ proper.

“Didn’t I tell you?” he asked as he set Anthony back on his feet. “All it took was a little faith.”

Anthony felt like smacking him.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” he said instead, seizing on his courage while he still had it. “I can’t begin to say how terrified I was at the thought of you dying.”

“Anthony, I-“

A shout of pain startled them out of their moment and they whirled around to spot one of the Philistine leaders with a sword in hand. Howard clutched his own bloody arm, though the wound didn’t look terribly deep.

“Very well, then! If you spit upon your word, Israel will spit upon your corpses!” Howard roared in defiance.

Sharon, the leader of Howard’s guard, blew her battle horn.

.

The battle was long and bloody. In the end, though, the Philistines fell and the Israelites claimed their victory. Steven had been mesmerizing on the battlefield, Anthony couldn’t help but notice. He had moved with a fluidity and grace that was only heightened by his strength. He toppled enemy warriors with his sling and stones as surely as the most skilled archers. When he ran out of stones, Steven used the thong to disarm, trip, and otherwise disable his opponents, often sending them right toward Anthony’s waiting sword.

They made a good team, especially once Steven’s brothers managed to push their way through the fray to join them. Anthony wasn’t as familiar with them, of course, only having met Dum Dum the once and none of the others, but he knew them easily from Steven’s tales.

Dum Dum himself was an absolute powerhouse, more of a brawler than a warrior. He lost his sword pretty early on in the fighting, but seemed just as satisfied using his fists. Bucky, the handsome, dark-haired one, darted between all of them, and always seemed to come out of nowhere to dispatch his opponents with quick, ruthless efficiency. Gabe, Falsworth, Jim, and Jacques were no less impressive, though their styles were a bit more traditional.

Anthony made a note of each of them. He would have to be sure to speak to their commander later. Not only to ensure they got no trouble for slipping away from their unit, but to inquire as to the possibilities of getting them assigned to his own guard. He would like very much to have men like them at his side in any battle.

Once the fighting was over, the wounded tended to and the dead gathered, the Israelite encampment celebrated. A great feast was prepared, or at least as much of one as could be mustered from what was available. They would throw a proper one at the palace, once they returned, but the joy of their triumph could not be contained. The tension that had been brewing over the past weeks was finally released and the warriors throughout the encampment were glad for it.

Content that Steven would be welcome at any fire he approached, Anthony managed to pull himself away long enough to see to his duties as Howard’s son. There was a darker side to combat that no one liked to talk about but couldn’t be ignored. He took the time to visit the wounded who could not simply walk off their injuries. Many would not make it back to their homes. Anthony sat and prayed with them, providing anything that was within his power to make them more comfortable. It was the least he could do when they had given the greatest sacrifice for their people.

After that, there were still discussions to be had with the war council on how to handle the rest of the Philistine nation. Their army was broken and scattered, yes, but there would surely still be resistance met as the Israelites moved through their land. If they did not want to lose more men, they would need to be prepared. Then there were the formal recognitions from Howard to those who had done great deeds during the battle, through which Anthony was expected to sit at his side. The last of these, the highest honor, went to Steven.

Steven had clearly taken the time to clean up after the battle, Anthony noted. He was dressed in clothes that Anthony guessed were borrowed from his brothers, though they did not fit _too_ poorly. They were of the same rough-hewn fabric his usual garments were of. Anthony would have to fix that.

As Howard spoke at length about faith and duty, Steven continued to sneak glances Anthony’s way. Every one made him smile a little more. As exhausted as he was from the day, Anthony couldn’t help but feel his spirits lifted by the Warmth in Steven’s eyes. In the firelight that lit the tent, the cut of Steven’s jaw and cheeks were even more pronounced that usual. Warmth kindled low in Anthony’s core.

It seemed to take years before the ceremony was over and the crowd had finally released Steven from its clutches. He approached Anthony where he was waiting to the side of the tent.

“Hey,” Steven greeted softly.

There were a million things Anthony could choose to say, coy teasing to expressions of admiration and gratitude. Anthony had spent too long running circles around what he really wanted, though.

“Accompany me back to my tent?” he asked instead.

Steven’s blue eyes darkened, not mistaking Anthony’s intent in the slightest.

“I would like nothing more.”

.

Anthony awoke slowly the next morning, comfortable and warm, bare legs still tangled with Steven’s and a light blanket pulled over them both. Steven was already awake and greeted Anthony with a soft press of lips. His thumb ran gently across Anthony’s cheek.

“You are so beautiful,” he praised easily.

“I know.”

Steven let out a bark of surprised laughter, stifling himself by tucking his face into the crook of Anthony’s neck.

“I should have expected that one,” he admitted.

“You really should have.” Anthony nudged him up so they could sit, not bothered at all as the blanket fell away to expose his modesty. “And there’s something else you should be expecting, too.”

He rose on legs that ached perfectly, smiling at the appreciative brush of Steven’s palm over his skin, and ducked behind his dressing screen. The disappointed noise from where he’d left Steven brought a smile to his lips. Anthony was back moments later, luxurious silk fabric with him. With a flourish, he settled the colorful robe around Steven’s shoulders before leaning in to kiss him.

He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of kissing Steven.

“A deal is a deal.”

Steven gaped at him.

“Anthony… You _love_ this robe!”

He loved Steven even more.

“I absolutely do,” he admitted, “so you better take extra good care of it.”

“I-I can’t,” Steven stuttered. “This is yours! And what would I do with a robe this fine, anyway? I’m just a shepherd.”

Unlike many of the people Anthony had known, there was nothing put-upon or faked about Steven’s modesty. He really thought of himself as just a man from Bethlehem.

“Not anymore you aren’t. You defeated _Thanos_ , Steven. Do you really think my father is just going to let you go back to your old life like nothing happened? You know the rewards you’ve been promised. What are you going to do? Go back to tending sheep with your tax exemption, grand fortune, and royal marriage?”

It was, perhaps, more than just a little strange to think that one of his sisters was going to be married to the man he’d managed to fall in love with, but Anthony was just doing his best not to think of it. It hurt less that way.

“I suppose not,” Steven admitted. “You would probably prefer something closer to the city anyway.”

Anthony startled.

“What?”

A wry smile crept across Steven’s lips.

“Well, of course, you’re free to say no. Or I’m happy to wait, if you’re just not ready, but your father _did_ offer me the hand of one of his children in marriage and, while I haven’t met any of your siblings, I’m pretty sure I won’t change my mind about you being my favorite.”

“Steve-“

“And I know,” Steven interrupted, “that we cannot be married in the eyes of our people, but… I would become one with you in Yahweh’s eyes. I would take an oath to bind our souls as one, without hesitation. Besides,” a small, hopefully smile broke across his face, “if we get married, it’d give me the perfect excuse to shower you with gifts. Cheese, for example, or perhaps an extremely fine robe imported from Egypt.”

Anthony stared at him for a long moment before a nigh-hysterical giggle bubbled up from within him. He let his head fall forward onto Steven’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut, if only to stave off the torrent of emotions. With his face pressed into silk, he didn’t dare cry. It’d ruin the fabric.

“Yes,” he said, through a grin that was so wide it almost hurt. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

Steven’s arms wrapped around him and held him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, David really fought lions and bears on the regular, even though we always picture him as this scrawny little twig. And he and Jonathon (Tony) were definitely getting it on.
> 
> "After David had finished talking with Saul, Jonathon became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself." - 1 Samuel 18:1
> 
> Some more shit goes down later on in their story, including King Saul's madness making him jealous of David and trying to kill him, though Jonathon helps him escape. It was a very touching moment.
> 
> "After the boy had gone, David got up from the south side of the stone and bowed down before Jonathon three times, with his face to the ground. Then they kissed each other and wept together - but David wept the most." - 1 Samuel 20:41
> 
> Later, when Jonathon is killed in combat, David is so distraught by the news that he kills the messanger who tells him. He also adopts and raises Jonathon's crippled son as his own.
> 
> ""Don't be afraid," David said to him, "for I will surely show you kindness for the sake of yoru father Jonathon. I will restore to you all the land that belonged to your grandfather Saul, and you will always eat at my table."" - 2 Samuel 9:7
> 
> This barely scratches the surface, but I think you get my point. XD


End file.
